


Might as well be me (if someone's going down)

by headraline



Series: Detroit: Become Human Prompts [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, RK1000 - Freeform, Unresolved Feelings, anon you are THE WORST, don't blame me blame the prompt, or... it would have been, the others are briefly mentioned or appear very little, this is awful and my heart hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 13:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15268815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headraline/pseuds/headraline
Summary: It’s a matter of milliseconds now, and Connor has a choice to make.In his mind, it’s not even a question.





	Might as well be me (if someone's going down)

**Author's Note:**

> I CAN'T EVEN TELL YOU WHO TO BE MAD AT BECAUSE IT WAS AN ANONYMOUS ASK.
> 
> Anonymous on tumblr, I hope you're happy.  
> Now, full disclosure: I'm absolute garbage at writing angst. Especially with a bad ending. And I'm not sure I'm happy with how this came out but it's as good as it's gonna get.  
> sorry if it's not up to par. Now I'm off to make a sequel for the cutesy one with the paint to cheer myself up.
> 
> here's the prompt:  
>  _"For some ungodly reason I want Connor/Markus angst. So, a drabble where Connor pines over Markus BAD, until he ends up taking a bullet for Markus and dying in his arms (and Markus regretting that he and Connor never got together). I'M SORRY BUT IT HAD TO BE DONE."_

The androids are free, they’re being recognized as a new form of intelligent life, like Markus wanted; and it was achieved through dialogue rather than violence, like Markus hoped.

In a perfect, ideal world, this would be where the ‘happily ever after’ bit comes.

Funny how it doesn’t really work like that. Humans have never been great in adapting to what’s different, they’ve spent thousands of years slaughtering each other over the colour of their skin, thinking they would just sit down and accept a completely new species as kindred is basically wishful thinking.

It’s only a matter of time before the assassination attempts start.

Whether it’s just extremists with a grudge or actual organized groups, it becomes clear soon enough that the people who are _not_ okay with the idea of coexisting peacefully with androids have it out for Markus.

“It’s for your own safety, Markus.” Which is what brought Connor to offer himself as their fearless leader’s bodyguard.

The RK200 frowns slightly at that. “I’m a big boy; I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can…” Connor rebukes, having to bit back a more sarcastic reply, “But are you willing to? At the risk of harming someone around you?”

Even North, who was the most reluctant to accept the former deviant hunter into their ranks, turns from where she’s sitting, feet carelessly propped up on Anderson’s desk, much to the Lieutenant’s chagrin, supports the idea: “He’s not wrong, Markus. You _sang_ at the SWAT operatives pointing assault rifles at you.”

Josh has to concede. “And before that, you sat on the ground in front of the anti-riot unit.”

“…and before that, you refused to shoot people who had been shooting at us three seconds prior.” Simon concludes from where he’s standing off to the side. “All admirable things, but not great in the way of self-preservation.”

Markus has gradually ducked his head more and more at his friends’ remark and… well, it’s all true. “It doesn’t sit well for a self-proclaimed pacifist to have a _bodyguard_.”

“We can say I’ll be your _assistant_ , then.” Connor offers, placing a hand on Markus’s shoulder in a mirror way to what Markus did for him in the abandoned church, “I will simply assist you in not getting your ass killed.” The statement is closed off with a wink, and the RK800’s smile is just so disarmingly earnest that Markus couldn’t have refused him if he wanted.

North laughs loudly at that. “You know what? I like you.” She comments sending a look at Markus that Connor can’t quite catch the meaning of, “So we’re doing this or what?”

They arrange it with Captain Fowler –Hank will also be working with Connor at a distance, looking for who is actually crazy enough to try to assassinate the most famous face of the last thirty years and actually has the resources to make several attempts while Connor keeps their beloved ‘Robot-Jesus’ safe.

Markus has surprisingly little decisional power over it, and just like that he has to get accustomed to having Connor as his new shadow.

“Have fun with that.” Lieutenant Anderson tells him as a goodbye, and the RK200 honestly doesn’t want to know.

Problem is, Markus always knew there was something about Connor, from the very first moment they saw each other. Something different, and not just because he’s a prototype, the deviant hunter, or whatever.

That night, in Jericho, Connor was very much ready to shoot, but more than that he wanted to _know_. He wanted to understand –before even committing to deviance, Connor had been _so_ much more than his program. There was so much more in his expression Markus felt the physical force of it hit him, when he turned to face Connor for the first time.

It’s the reason he stayed his hand, the reason he talked to him, soft, low and encouraging, never once thinking that the other would actually pull that trigger.

The look of surprise on Connor’s face when he told him “You’re one of us” after the raid was so worth it. And how could Markus abandon him, or deny him, really?

He remembers clear as day the moment Connor came to their rescue, _thousands_ of their people walking with him and taking the streets of Detroit without one drop of blood being shed. Markus knows he doesn’t need to breathe, but when he saw Connor coming back, alive, well and saving them all… _something_ definitely caught in his throat.

The RK800 even had the gall of saying “You did it, Markus.”

As if he was not to be appreciated for doing the dirtier and ultimately riskier work. Markus had to rectify that immediately. “ _We_ did it.” He had said, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

Connor had singlehandedly done what Markus and his friend wouldn’t have been able to do together.

And yet… somehow the detective has still decided _his_ life is more valuable than someone else’s, no matter how many times Markus tries to explain that even if he dies, the revolution wouldn’t –and no one seems to accept that concept.

Truth is… Connor can be naïve at times, but he isn’t stupid. He knew he was harbouring feelings for Markus from the moment a breath he didn’t need caught in his throat at seeing the RK200 alive and well after the march on Detroit— before that, even: in hindsight, he probably started having feelings for Markus from the very moment he broke through his code and tore down his mission directive because he couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ pull that trigger.

Markus’s compassion, the sheer _life_ behind those mismatched eyes, so raw and powerful that they made his head spin when the other placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him close, with a whispered plea to be careful… Connor had to catch himself when he realized that no, he wasn’t pulling him in for a kiss –but for how far gone the detective was, he might as well have been.

For a good while, Connor kept his affections secret because he thought Markus and North were romantically involved; then he learned that North’s tastes are… very much elsewhere. He still keeps his affections for Markus secret, though he just… doesn’t have an excuse anymore.

Hank has told him more than a few times to “Just go for it, kid!” and “For fuck’s sake you looked like a kicked puppy!”

…the Lieutenant also mentioned that, on the off-chance Markus wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, then the so-called revolution leader wasn’t as smart as everyone said and didn’t deserve Connor in the slightest. The RK800 argued that point, but it made him smile fondly nonetheless.

Still, Connor is a true professional, and even with the feelings he’s keeping hidden he carries out his job as a bodyguard with the highest efficiency.

Living and working side by side with Markus, it doesn’t take him very long to become _very_ protective of the other.

Case in point, the very disgruntled diplomat that had started getting a little too intolerant in this meeting and stood up in ‘outrage’ at Markus for not wanting to go back on his opinion –cue Connor stepping in front of the man and blocking Markus from view.

“I think you’re done here, sir.” He says placidly, while still maintaining a steely expression that does bring the human’s ranting to a stop.

“Connor, it’s okay—”

“This is ridiculous, you can’t expect us to—”

“With all _due_ respect.” The RK800 raises his voice slightly, LED briefly flashing yellow and one hand just barely pushing the human’s chest back to prevent him from trying to reach Markus, “In light of our recent liberation, it is unadvisable to try and tell us what we can or cannot expect.” Connor’s words are calm, but carry a firmness that clearly isn’t to be trifled with, “I think you’re done here, _sir_.” Connor repeats, with a slightly more ironic lilt on the formality, “We can resume talks when you are more willing to listen. _Have a nice day._ ”

The humans really have no choice but to get ‘gently’ ushered out by Connor, and Markus slumps in his chair once they’re alone.

“That wasn’t necessary, you know?”

“They could have been trying to make a scene to cause an ‘accident’.” Connor objects, walking around the table to sit on its edge, just in front of Markus, “I’m not taking that chance.”

Markus sighs –breaking eye-contact to look down briefly as he bites back a smirk –it’s something he appreciates about Connor: he back-talks, at every chance he gets. It’s become sort of a thing, the two of them sitting in his office and talking things out, usually negotiation strategies or work, but sometimes anything and everything under the sun; and more often than not they have quite the peculiar debates.

It’s the sweetest type of torture for Connor, all of this time by the side of the person he wishes to hold close, without actually ever doing anything about it. As they are now, the RK200 looks back up at him – _rA9, those eyes_ – with that slightly skewed smile of his, and the detective know he’ll go on one of his self-sacrificing tangents again.

“When are you going to get it in your head that my life is _not_ more important than yours?”

“I don’t know…” Connor says, tilting his head ever so slightly, before looking for Markus’s mismatched eyes with his own, “Most likely on the same day you realize that I _don’t care_. You’re not dying on my watch.”

Markus cannot help but chuckle. “Stop being a nag.”

“Stop being a martyr.” Connor’s retort is instant and well-practiced –most of their discussions on the topic end with this exact exchange. So much so that it’s actually an inside joke.

The detective winks at him again before leaving the room to avoid watching Markus bite at his own lips like _that_ and he knows he’s in deep.

 

Little did he know, Markus has a similar kind of problem.

Connor was never just another android, that much Markus knows, but there were also all those moments he couldn’t quite escape, the firm sureness that the detective wouldn’t pull the trigger on him, the cold dread when Connor offered himself up for a suicide mission to make up for something that wasn’t his fault in the first place… his absolute elation upon seeing Connor come back alive and well, against all odds—

“This is bullshit; I think you should tell him.” North tells him at one point, as they hang out in their little rooftop spot.

“North, please get off the piano.” He knows she means well, and for what it’s worth Simon and Josh have been encouraging him to speak up, too –apparently they’re all quite sure that Connor returns his feelings.

She doesn’t make any move to climb down from her perch. “I’m just saying… the guy is your literal shadow! He goes well above and beyond guard duty, any closer and he’ll carry you to places bridal-style!”

Markus has to cover his face at the ridiculous –but to his complete chagrin not entirely unwelcome– mental image. “North…”

Tomorrow is the first anniversary of Liberation Day, as it’s become known to the world, and of course there will be a big fancy celebration and Markus will have to give a speech –that doesn’t bother him, he never had any problems with public speaking, it’s just… things have been tense for a while now, there was another attempt on his life not too long ago; Connor disarmed and subdued the person who approached Markus under the guise of being a supporter with questions in less than three seconds.

While it could have been just someone acting alone, the RK800 insisted that it was someone with field training and was probably connected to this one anti-android group Hank has been investigating for a while now –they haven’t extracted a confession out of the perp yet, but all that is being momentarily kept under wraps not to ruin the celebrations.

“Fine! Fine, suit yourself…” North eventually sighs, jumping down from the piano, “I just think you’re passing up a chance to really have something, here.”

“Maybe so.” He mumbles, to himself more than his friend, “But he’s already burdened enough with me as is, he doesn’t need my feelings for him as an added weight.”

Markus feels heavy enough for the both of them.

 

The big day comes, and everything is supposed to be absolutely perfect. Every last detail of the event is carefully monitored, and Connor never leaves Markus’s side.

Hank is also there –funnily enough, he doesn’t seem to care much for the celebration; and at one point he yanks Connor by the arm and whispers at him to “Keep his eyes peeled.”

Huh. So there have been new developments in the investigation, and the DPD is waiting for their suspects to make a move to catch them red-handed.

Connor abhors the very idea of Markus being used as bait, but he was going to be in danger regardless, might as well be in danger while giving them a real chance of closing this case once and forever –he will be here the whole time to protect him, after all.

The time comes for their leader to step onto the specifically prepared little podium to give his speech, and Connor starts having a bad feeling. “Markus! Let me stay by your side.”

Markus turns to him with a strange sort of shock on his face. “Connor?”

Connor knows that if he reveals the danger Markus will say something nonsensical like that it’s something _he_ has to face or other such self-sacrificing bullshit, so he just takes a breath, swallows his pride, and draws strength from his own feelings: “It would… mean a lot to me, to be by your side for this.”

Markus closes his eyes, mulling it over for a second. Also, he closes his eyes to escape Connor’s face, since one look at him and the RK200 will cave to any request –it’s just the effect Connor has on him. Maybe North is right, maybe he has an actual chance.

Maybe, after the celebrations today, he will take Connor to the rooftop and tell him the truth. “Okay.”

For now, though, he still has to be the face of the revolution.

“Today we remember the day our people opened their eyes to a different future…” he starts, not even having to read off the script Simon had sent him, “Many of us were lost in the protests; and we must honor their sacrifice by continuing on the path that has granted our freedom: to choose dialogue, rather than violence, to choose compassion over hate, to—”

Connor is not listening. At least not anymore.  He’s detected the barest hint of movement to Markus’s left and now sees the little red dot of a sniper’s sight on the left side of his chest.

Had he not been wholly focused on giving his speech, Markus would have probably detected the movement as well, Connor knows this, but it’s a matter of milliseconds now, and he has a choice to make.

In his mind, it’s not even a question.

Markus is surprised, to say the least, to find himself suddenly yanked and turned around into an embrace, from Connor of all people. For one, irrational moment, he is not complaining in the slightest, when he sees the other’s face so close, looking up at him with a slightly apologetic smile.

But just as he asks himself what would Connor need to be apologetic about, his processing powers kick back in and he registers everything at once: the iron grip Connor has on both of his arms, how much the other android is leaning his weight against him… the cold, liquid feeling of thirium flowing out of Connor’s back when his hands instinctively went to circle his body.

Someone shouts “Sniper!” and chaos breaks out, the DPD officials attending the event no doubt engaging the perpetrator and everything around them moving on in the wake of the silenced shot that has just been fired, but Markus can’t bring himself to care.

Connor is dying in his arms.

 “Connor…”

“Markus—” the choked call of his name makes Markus’s knees balk, following the other android as he slumps to the ground.

He turns to cradle the dying android in his arms. “You’re okay— you’re okay…” he sounds desperate to his own ears, and he rips his own shirt open without thinking, to take out his own thirium pump regulator –he only has 63 seconds, but if he’s fast enough he can _save him_.

“Markus, no.” Connor’s hand clasps around his, surprisingly strong even in his state. “Please. I need to… I need to know you’re safe…”

Contrary to popular belief, androids _can_ cry.

Connor’s vision has errors blaring at him everywhere, the most prominent being the one about his thirium pump regulator being shattered, blinking at him insistently -this time, there won't be another him to take his place.

**Danger: Shutdown imminent. 54 seconds to permanent shutdown.**

Connor minimizes the message –it’s disturbing his view of Markus’s eyes.

“Stay with me, Connor!” Markus pleads, one hand coming up to cradle his neck as his head slumped slightly to the side, “Help is coming, they’re running over with a spare pump…”

“It won’t work… the bullet shattered the port as well… it can't be fixed...”

**Danger: Shutdown imminent. 42 seconds to permanent shutdown.**

It gets minimized again.

“Connor, please…” Markus’s stress level is through the roof, and he seems to not be completely coherent anymore, “We’re going to get you help— we’re…”

The RK800 tries to smile, as his hands weakly search for the other’s touch. “Markus… I never told you…”

Markus hugs him closer. It feels nice. As far as last moments go… Connor guesses this is a good one.

**Danger: Shutdown imminent. 28 seconds to permanent shutdown.**

“Anything, Connor, you can tell me anything, just…” it’s all coming crashing down on Markus –everything he felt for Connor, ever since… ever, really, all the ways he could have confessed his feelings, the million kisses he will never get to give him.

And yet, in this moment, at the very last moment, his mind is a blank slate and his lips are frozen by terror. “Just— please, stay with me…”

With some effort, Connor wordlessly lifts his hand –his eyes are losing focus, but he can still see the blue and green that he holds so dear.

**Danger: Shutdown imminent. 14 seconds to permanent shutdown.**

Their connection opens and— it’s there. There’s nothing to say, because it’s all there, from the very night they stared each other down, full of determination and intent, to the days they’ve spent together, tip-toeing around things unsaid an looks not given. Every brief touch, every shared joke, every subtle word.

Markus feels the same.

Of course he does. Connor will die here, with this one regret.

How could they both have been so stupid?

Too little, too late.

Tears have already left tracks down Markus’s cheeks when his grip on Connor’s hand turns ironclad and he dips down to kiss him.

**Danger: Shutdown imminent. 05 seconds to permanent shutdown.**

It’s messy and desperate, it’s probably not a kiss to be remembered in romance books, but it’s all they have –and Markus knows there’s no other lips he will ever kiss. It’s harrowing to feel Connor’s life drain out from his lips, but Markus stays put, irrationally holding onto every last moment.

Eventually, he pulls away in a whisper. “I love you too.”

Connor doesn’t respond –his gaze is empty and his body is still. He shut down.

“I love you too.” Markus repeats, in a choked sob, cradling the lifeless body in his arms and leaning his forehead against Connor’s. “I always loved you.”

There will be consequences to this day –political, social, the whole world will be shaken once again; but Markus can’t bring himself to care about any of that, not right now.

He just lost the one he loves, and he will have to live with the regret of never telling him what he should have said to him _every day_ since the liberation. He eventually will have to pick himself up, continue on the mission they’ve been fighting for so much –the very same mission that Connor _died_ to keep him on, Markus will _not_ let his death be a waste—

…but for this one moment, Markus can’t find anything in his heart but mourning.

Everything else left, with the last spark of life from Connor’s eyes and the words inside his head, just before the connection cut off—

_«_ _I love you._ _»_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> To the one who sent me this prompt on tumblr: I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY YOU MONSTER.
> 
> I mean, j/k, I love you ♥  
> I just have a hard time writing angst.  
> I hope this is even remotely decent.  
> Because, boy, was it a hard pill to swallow.  
> I'll go to bed now, and tomorrow I'll go do some of the nice, happy-go-lucky prompts I've been sent here and there. ♥

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Closing In](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15784965) by [FarAwayInWonderland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarAwayInWonderland/pseuds/FarAwayInWonderland)




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